


Unbroken

by Macx



Series: Shifter 'verse (Rat and Shark) [4]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-04
Updated: 2011-09-08
Packaged: 2017-10-23 10:21:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/249236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macx/pseuds/Macx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A simple visit to Muir Island to talk to Dr. Moira MacTaggart ends with Charles being shot. All the shark in Erik wants is revenge; what he has to do is protect his mate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Winter came suddenly. Or as suddenly as it could in Maine where September was already the time to prepare for cold days, even colder nights, and the occasional snow flake. By the end of October things had gotten significantly more like mid-winter in other parts of the country and the cold winds knifing in from the ocean drove those not used to the temperatures, or just not equipped for them, into their houses or to another part of the country.

For Xavier manor it had meant fixing what needed to be fixed – it was a big house, thankfully made of stone and not wood, but odd repairs and preparations had to be made. For Charles it also meant stocking up the sizable pantry, the cellar and any other place in the house that could be used to store food because a lot of the Cursed living at the manor would also stay there for winter. And if new-arrivals came in, he wanted to be prepared.

Erik had joked about going out to hunt and find them a seal or some dolphin if things turned dicey in the meat department, but his partner had reassured him that there was no need for that.  
November started with a mild storm that Erik rode out in the depth of the ocean as he stretched his fins. The trees had shed their last leaves, the ground was starting to freeze and snow was starting to be a regular sight. Forecasts had all the charm of an old rug with the edges chewed off. No one was having any hopes for a let up in the weather. This was a winter that had come here to stay.

*

“He was shot.”

The words echoed through his mind.

He was shot.

Charles.

He couldn’t comprehend it. Something inside him refused to acknowledge the truth of those words. Something wanted to scream.

“Erik!”

He looked into a pair of yellow eyes, strong hands grabbing his arms. “Erik! Pull yourself together!”

Raven. He always forgot how strong she really was. How supernaturally flexible and agile and strong. She was a Witchbreed Cursed, looking far from human with her blue, scaly skin, the red hair and the yellow eyes. But she could appear human and like a normal girl, and no one would suspect she was this powerful creature.

“Where is he?” he asked, voice cold. She stared at him as if he hadn’t really understood.

And he hadn’t.

He couldn’t.

Charles had been shot.

Erik tried to open the connection between them, but he wasn’t a telepath. He was good at close quarters, he felt Charles when they were near each other, but across a distance things blurred or became so obscure, he couldn’t even be sure there was anyone there. He never missed it while swimming because he knew and felt Charles was there when he came back, even when he wasn’t inside the manor. Charles was a fixed constant in his life now and he belonged.

Charles had been shot.

“Where?” he managed.

“He went out to Muir Island, meeting with a Dr. MacTaggart. She’s a geneticist.”

He remembered. They had talked about it. Charles had been excited to find a like-minded individual and he and MacTaggert had had long-distance conversations in the past. Finally he had made an appointment with the geneticist and had set off to Muir Island. Erik had been drawn between going along and leaving his lover to deal with the science himself. He wasn’t fond of scientists. He had been poked and prodded too often in his life.

Now he wished he had listened to instinct.

Tearing himself out of the grip Raven had on him he made for the door.

“Where are you going?” she called after him.

“To Charles.”

“You don’t even know where he is!”

That stopped the Shifter. True. Only too true. He had no idea whether he had even made it to Muir Island. Erik had never been there either. It was a big place and the research station, while located conveniently on top of a cliff with access to the cove below, might not have been the target. It might have been Charles himself – while he was outside, or at the beach, or talking a stroll…

He glared at the young woman.

“Where?” he demanded.

“A ‘please’ would help!” she snapped back. “And I’m just as worried, Erik! He’s my brother!”

But not her mate. Not the one who meant more to her than her life!

For Erik the knowledge that something had happened to Charles and he wasn’t there to see how bad it was meant torture.

“He’s at Muir Island’s research station,” she finally said, voice tense. “The attack happened there. Some kind of radical group who was after Dr. MacTaggart.”

And Charles had been caught in the crossfire. The Shark in him howled in rage, demanded to know who had injured his lover, and he would take revenge.

“She radioed us, told us she has taken care of his injuries, that… Erik!” Raven called after him. “Wait!”

He didn’t. He had heard enough.

The Shark was running out of the manor, toward the beach, Shifting before he had even gotten all clothes off. They ripped apart. He didn’t care.

The gray-black shark shot through the water, faster than any waterborn could possibly be.

Muir Island was a large, rugged island, the broken off tip at the end of a long peninsula. Countless smaller islands, none large enough to even build a house on, surrounded the immediate area.

He knew where to go.

* * *

The research station on Muir Island had been there for ages. It had been used for various activities, from bird watching to radar to ships’ early warning to weather watch and finally Moira MacTaggart had first rented and then bought the ramshackle collection of buildings that had been erected over a long period of time. A historian would probably delight over the many styles, all functional and low-slung to avoid a lot of wind catching. To Moira it had been important that she had enough space for her equipment, could live here and had a good connection to the mainland. Once someone had tried to build a bridge. A few lonely concrete pillars in the churning ocean were witness of that. The bridge had never been completed.

The research station of today was mainly situated in the largest building. The tower that had once been the weather radar station had crumbled and she hadn’t seen any use for it. There were assorted other buildings all over the island from the bird watchers, but those, too, had been left to rot.

Getting to the island was child’s play in good weather, but tricky navigating on other days. When the winter storms came no sane person would think about even trying the crossing and the insane ones would just cackle and shake their heads. Moira used her weekly runs to gather enough supplies to get her through the bad weather spells and in the past years there had never been much trouble.

This year, just before storm season, trouble had found her.

  
Moira MacTaggart was a tall, slender woman in her mid forties. She had dark hair that she bound back into a pony tail, which had come partially undone. Her clothes were stained by dirt and her blood. She was wearing a jacket against the cold as she met Erik. The Shifter had no problems with the frigid air. He was a waterbound Cursed and he had been in colder waters as a shark.

To her credit she didn’t blink twice when a naked man came out of the ocean, stalking up the slope of the beach to her research station.

“You’re Erik Lensherr,” she only said.

Her voice sounded tired. She looked exhausted.

Erik didn’t care.

He pushed past her and entered the station. He didn’t have to ask where his partner was.

He knew.

  
Blood.

The smell was heavy and thick in the room.

Charles’ blood. Erik would know it everywhere. The taste, the smell, the texture. He had imprinted on his lover’s smell and taste.

Now he saw it. Leaking through the bandages around Charles’ torso, staining the whiteness, dry and flaking on the exposed skin. Pale skin. Too pale.

Erik felt his feral side push through, wanting to maim and kill, wanting to tear whoever had done this limb from limb.

::Erik::

Faint. Thready and faint and filled with pain. Charles’ voice was barely recognizable.

He walked over to the prone man, kneeling down next to the bed. He didn’t really see the destruction around him, how furniture had suffered from the attack, how bullets had scarred the walls and annihilated expensive equipment. He had seen it all from the outside, too. Half the main building had collapsed. Whoever had come here, they had been strong or brought heavy artillery. Part of him stored the information, like an afterthought, but his attention was on Charles alone. His fingers brushed over the cool, too pale skin, his mind desperately reaching out to the other man.

::Don’t::

Blue eyes cracked open a slit, filled with pain, fighting for control.

“They don’t deserve to live!”

::Wasn’t me. Not their target:: Charles shivered. ::Moira.::

“I don’t fucking care who they wanted to kill! They shot you!”

Charles’ presence increased, but it was still faint. ::Erik, please…::

But he wasn’t strong enough to stop the Shark. No one could stop him. Not when it concerned his partner.

::Erik! Please! No!::

The darkness on his mind drowned out everything. There was just Charles, his lover and partner. Injured.

Gray eyes, glacial and without a shred of discernible emotion, looked at the prone man. Nostrils flared. Charles was still begging, silently, trying to make him understand.

“Mr. Lensherr.”

It had been the wrong move. Erik’s head whipped around, hand flinging out, and suddenly Moira was on her knees, clutching at her throat where a silver chain was twisting and digging into her skin, cutting off her air.

“This is your doing!” he yelled. “You did this!”

She wheezed, eyes wide, fingers trying to dig under the thin metal band to release some pressure.

With a last surge of strength Charles presence pushed into Erik’s mind, through the fog of rage.

::Erik…! No! It wasn’t her fault!::

The Shifter’s attention was back on his lover, hand still out and controlling the metal band.

::Please release her. It wasn’t her fault. Let her go!::

Charles’ mind was getting stronger, all his energy pouring into their link, into his near-order to let MacTaggart go. And he could make Erik do it. One direct order and he could.

::Erik… let her go::

It wasn’t an order. It was a request.

Erik looked into the blue eyes, fell apart in their depth, and he caressed the cool skin under his fingers. His hand dropped. Moira fell forward, sucking in great gulps of air. She was radiating fear and the feral part of Erik reveled in it.

::Thank you::

Faint. Breathy. Barely there. Pain was overwhelming the telepath’s mind, finally finding the cracks in his shields. Shields that had been barely more than paper thin.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered.

He held on as Charles slipped, catching the weak mind. Erik looked at the other man, felt the shaky contact grow thinner, and he wrapped himself around the landbound.

“Charles,” he murmured.

::Don’t kill yourself. Please:: was the faint plea.

“I wasn’t planning to get killed.”

The blue was blurry now, the eyes almost closed. Charles was at the end of his rope. Erik interlaced their fingers, his head sinking onto the mattress. The blood was still everywhere, it still egged the Shark on to take the lives of those who had spilled it. The human side, the logical side, was fighting against instinct, though.

::Don’t::

“I won’t,” he swore.

Erik placed a gentle hand on the bandages, felt the muscles underneath contract with pain and the erratic breathing. He held the blue eyes.

::I’ll be here:: he sent. ::With you::

Nowhere else.

Charles slid into unconsciousness with Erik holding him.

  



	2. Chapter 2

  
Moira made coffee after unearthing the coffee maker from the debris that filled the kitchen area. She also found two not too badly chipped mugs. The island’s generator had been damaged, too, but they still had heat and electricity. For now.

Not that it mattered to Erik.

She had also dug up a pair of pants that fit him, though they were a bit too big, and a likewise too big sweater. At his briefly quizzical expression she simply said, “My husband’s.”

Erik would have to be blind and deaf not to hear the loss and pain. Right now he didn’t care. He had his own pain to deal with and dressing in a probably dead man’s clothing was secondary.

 

When Moira proffered the coffee, her guest took the mug with barely a glance, but she felt a bit more confident around the powerful shifter. He hadn’t moved from the room where Charles lay on the bed, and while Moira wanted to ask a lot of questions, she knew that this would be the wrong time. Actually, there would never be a right time for this. Erik Lensherr wasn’t the most cooperative man when it came to his private life, or the fact that he was one of the Omega Cursed

Charles had given her an insight, telling her about Erik, about himself, about what he was like. She had been fascinated by a waterbound Shifter who was also an Omega, who controlled metal, who was bonded to Charles. The telepath had indulged her when she had fired questions at him, but he had drawn a line when it came to their telepathic connection.

Moira understood.

The scientist in her had wanted to know even more.

Now she was so close to one of the most fascinating mutations she had ever met and one wrong step might get her more than a throttling. That had scared her. That had shown her just how close to the edge Erik was.

“Do you want something to eat?” she offered quietly.

“No.”

Moira sat down, looking through the miraculously unharmed window. It was getting colder outside, night was falling, and the ocean was in uproar. A storm had been forecast for the next few days and winter would be in full force with it.

She finally got up and checked the radio again.

*

“He fought them,” she told Erik when she came back and settled on a chair again. Moira had tried to move some of the debris, but it was a senseless task. Nothing could be saved. It was all gone. “There were four. Charles stopped one telepathically. He once told me he can do it. He didn’t see the one with the gun.”

The cold, gray eyes looked at her. Lensherr gave her the chills. She could see the shark lurking the depths of those eyes, could almost feel the thinning control, and only Charles’ need for protection kept this man in check.

“Still he paralyzed another one before he got to me,” she went on. “I didn’t know how strong he was until today.”

“No one knows,” was the flat reply.

Of course not. Maybe not even Charles himself knew. He was an Omega and both his abilities were strong, but the telepathic blows he had dealt, actually stopping one of the attackers long enough for Moira to brain him with a chair, had been unexpected.

Did she even know how strong Erik Lensherr was? Did he know just how far his control of metal extended. According to Charles the waterbound Shifter was older than him, but he had yet to determine how old. Erik hadn’t counted the years of his enforced labor by Shaw, his training and shaping, and Shaw himself had been one of the Cursed who regenerated by feeding on the life energy of others. He wasn’t Omega level, though.

Moira watched Erik gently stroke his hand over Charles’ head. If the shark could have moved him safely back home, he would have. Right now Charles took priority and Erik’s instincts were telling him everything was wrong, but he wouldn’t risk his partner’s life.

She chewed on her lower lip.

Shifters healed fast, Moira knew. But she also knew just how bad this injury was.

“May I check him again?” she broke the silence, not moving.

Erik’s eyes narrowed and he looked at her as if she had proposed a dissection. There was a clear warning there. Hurt him more and you’ll get hurt worse.

She held the glacial gaze, accepted the warning, and was allowed to look at Charles with a slow now.

Nothing had changed. He had slipped from unconsciousness into an uneasy, flushed sleep. The wound had stopped bleeding and she desperately wished her equipment wasn’t that damaged. She would have been able to determine how deep the tissue damage went, if the bullet had nicked bone. Charles had been able to move his legs, but it had been so close to the spine…

“Thank you,” she said as she stepped back, pulling off her surgical gloves. “He hasn’t gotten worse, though his temperature also hasn’t dropped.”

Which might be because of the healing that was taking place. Shifters were incredible at that. It also meant he needed food and water, neither of which he could take in right now. Moira wanted to be ready when Charles woke and she would go through the remains of the kitchen again, looking for anything to feed the injured man.

And maybe they could get help before the night fell because the storm warning was most prominently on her mind. No one in their right mind would set out for the island in this weather.

*

The storm hit them with nightfall, nearly two hours after Erik had arrived. It negated all hope of someone else coming here. Muir Island was a rather exposed place for research, but it was also the quietest place Moira knew. She had been able to accomplish so much here.

Lensherr had accepted what could be called soup on a good day and was nothing but a thin cobbled together mixture of whatever had still be edible after the attack. Moira was worried about the generators and had checked on them twice. One looked very bad, the other just slightly better. The storm’s current intensity spoke of what was to come. She had weathered storms like this one before, actually quite often, but never in a destroyed home and with two generators about to give up on her.

Erik was with Charles, always touching him, looking at the sleeping man with such an intensity, she was convinced he was trying to push through the barriers of sleep and into Charles’ mind.

A howl of wind made her look up and frown. The roof was recently reinforced and it should hold, but from the sounds outside, from the debris being hauled around by the elemental forces, she wasn’t so sure about the general structure. They were in the safest part, the only room that might survive if the gale forces grew and tore at the station, but even then…

Moira didn’t want to pursue that line of thought. She walked back into the room and smiled slightly as she caught the gentle expression, the worry and love and need, reflected in the shark’s eyes. It was there for just a moment, but it told her more than anything else how intense this thing between the two Shifters was. Despite looking the complete opposite on the outside.

Erik glanced up, expression shuttering.

“It’s going to be a wild night,” she said, trying to keep her own fear out of her voice.

Not that it would work with a predator like him. He could read it in the taut line of her body, the tension across her shoulders, and the worry lines around her eyes and mouth.

*

Charles woke only once. Moira held out the cup of water, mixed in with a nutritional powder, to Erik. The shark had him drink it in small gulps. Xavier had about enough strength and understanding to Shift into his rat form. It would be the best form to heal in. Lesser body mass, a lot less nutritional requirements, and still the same abilities.

Erik was close to driving his fist into a wall when it was over, the screams of his lover shaking him to his very soul. The chocolate brown forest rat lay on the large bed, the fur matted in blood, the bandages no longer wrapped around the hideous injuries.

He would heal faster this way, he could regenerate tissue and muscle, but it had knocked him out. It had been too much.

Erik stayed. Despite the need for revenge, he stayed. He had climbed into the bed, wrapped himself in the blanket and settled the unconscious Shifter form as close as he dared without jostling Charles too much.

Moira had kept back and only now approached them. Erik’s eyes held a clear warning and she nodded, stopping far enough away for the Shark not to feel threatened.

“Who did this?” Erik demanded, voice a low growl.

“They call themselves The Brotherhood. Mutants. Like you and Charles.”

“I doubt it,” the Shark replied.

She smiled briefly. “No. The Brotherhood has opposed my work for ages. They believe that whatever I reveal about genetic mutations will lead to the extinction of mutant-kind.”

“Will it?” Erik asked flatly.

“No. It leads to a better understanding. I don’t want to cure these abilities, Erik. It’s what Charles and I talked about, what he came here to speak with me in person about. The Brotherhood are extremists, lead by a madman.”

“Who?”

“There are a lot of rumors. Some call him Mister Sinister, some say it’s someone else. No one really knows.”

Erik gazed at the unconscious rat. Charles’ breathing was coming too fast, his heartbeat, always faster as a rat, accelerated beyond normal, too. His body was fighting to heal.

“Will you let me check him?” MacTaggart asked.

She was a medical doctor. She had already treated Charles. The very idea of surrendering control to her went against every instinct. But he needed to know his partner was okay. With a nod Erik allowed her to approach.

The woman was very careful as she pushed back bloodied hair, examining the wounds, and she deftly wrapped a new bandage around the much smaller patient.

“I know Shifters heal faster than humans, even faster in their alternate forms. Charles undid the healed parts with his Shift, but he didn’t make it worse. He needs to lie still, Erik. The bullet missed his spine, but it did extensive damage. Normally I would have shaved the hair from the wound, but he’s not a normal forest rat.” She smiled briefly and stepped back. “I’m done. Please be very, very careful.”

He didn’t have to be told twice.

*

Just how wild the night would prove to be showed another hour later when the storm hit its peak, bursting windows and ripping the troubled station apart at the seams. The whole structure had been so compromised by the attack – she had to classify the mutant who had so thoroughly done a number on this place – that it didn’t have a chance.

The roof started to lift with a groan and the next window fragmented, frame twisting and bending hard. Cold air cut into the only room that had been remotely safe.

Erik would have none of it. Moira had never seen a Cursed who could control metal and she crawled under the crazy construct pulled together to surround them like a shield. She had witnessed how metal cupboards, chairs, the lab doors and even smaller metallic parts folded apart like paper into neat sheets that became their new roof, a wall, a shield, whatever one might call it. She heard things, big things, flung against it all, felt the bangs reverberate through her. She pressed her hands over her ears as the cacophony of sound became too painful to listen to, wide eyes on Erik as he concentrated on not losing his battle with the elements.

He made small, abrupt motions, twisting and turning his hands, spreading his fingers, pushing and pulling invisible handles, it all looked like some exquisite routine, but it was nothing but masterful and their only way to get out of this alive.

  


 

Charles woke sometime in the night, disoriented, eyes clouded and filled with pain. Moira soothed him, despite the danger of touching the Shark’s mate like that, up close, while Erik was busy keeping them alive. She only got a sharp look, then Lensherr let her treat his lover while he handled everything else. Whether there was a telepathic contact she didn’t know; Charles slipped off after a few painful moments.

The worst of the storm was over come morning.

*

The arrival of Azazel had Erik nearly strike out and fling a load of metallic debris at the Witchbreed; red-skinned, with a tail, and too-light blue eyes. He smirked at Erik, disregarding the storm of assorted metal pieces poised to strike.

“Azazel is a friend,” Moira hurried to explain. “And a teleporter.”

“I apologize for not being here when they attacked, Doctor,” the Witchbreed said, voice accented. “It looks like the call was a lure for me, to get me away.”

“Call?” Erik demanded, still standing between Azazel and Charles, still in full fight mode. He had yet to dismiss his weapons. He was exhausted to the brink of collapse, having used his considerable powers to keep them alive the night before. He hadn’t slept, hadn’t eaten much, and he was feeling the strain of it all. But Charles needed him. He could function until they were safe.

“Private,” the other man rumbled. “None of your business.”

Azazel studied the knives and forks, the shard of torn metal, the nails and screws, quirking brow. “Cursed, hm?”

“Azazel, this is Erik Lensherr. Charles is his partner.”

The Witchbreed looked at the unconscious Shifter behind Erik. He only grunted.

“Please lower your weapons, Erik. Azazel can get Charles home,” Moira spoke up. “He can teleport him.”

Erik was drawn between the need to be in familiar, safe surroundings and the refusal to let anyone touch his defenseless partner.

“I get nothing from harming him, Shark,” the teleporter told him, scowling. “Let me take him home. Then I leave again. Moira will need help here.”

He finally nodded and the metal sank to the ground again.

Charles would be proud, part of him lauded. He growled softly at that part, silencing it. Of course Charles would be proud. He was insanely proud of everything they were, did together, had done. Erik had never felt this acceptance, this love, anywhere else before. Unconditional, filled with trust, and a connection that surpassed any other human bonds.

He would do anything for his little rat, even trust a Witchbreed only MacTaggart could vouch for.

It had to be enough.

  



	3. Chapter 3

  
The whole mansion was in shock. While they knew that society didn’t look kindly upon them, but no one had expected an attack from other mutants, and involving Charles, of all people. Word that it had been the Brotherhood spread and Erik was surprised how quickly information came in.

“Charles gave us all a second chance,” Ororo explained calmly. “We owe him.”

The weather witch had grown up quickly, now an important part of Charles’ school, and together with Raven, Hank, Alex and Sean she ran the classes. She proceeded to fill Erik in on a lot of details he had never known about this Brotherhood and he felt his anger rise.

How dare they attack their own?!

“Don’t go out there half-cocked and blood-lusting,” Ororo told him. “If you strike them now, they will simply retaliate. Charles wasn’t their target, it was Dr. MacTaggart.”

Erik felt like hitting something again. “He threw himself between her and them.”

It was what Moira had told him.

“Because he wanted to protect her.” Ororo nodded to herself.

Because he was Charles!

“Let us handle this, Erik. You take care of Charles.”

“What do you want to handle?” he demanded.

Ororo smiled gently. “Maybe cutting off the head is your way of doing things, but sometimes neutralizing the weapons is better.”

With that she walked away, long white hair swaying over her back.

Erik stared after the compelling woman, then decided to Hell with it. He knew he couldn’t leave Charles until he knew his lover was going to be all right. As much as he wanted to go out there and hunt down the ones responsible, the only course of action was to make sure no one got to Charles until he was able to defend himself.

* * *

Charles woke curled up in a familiar bed. What he wasn’t familiar with was the sight of his tail in front of his nose. A white tip of fur. A brown nose. Fur.

Huh.

Ears twitched. Rat ears. Dark brown and lightly furred. His black nose itched and he rubbed it, feeling a little dizzy. He lifted his head and looked around, confirming that he was truly in his own room at the mansion.

What…?

And then he felt another presence. Familiar and warm and connected to his mind. He immediately anchored himself in the strong presence. It was instinctual by now. They had been together for so long, Charles didn’t know what it had been like before he had found Erik.

Lonely, he thought sometimes. He had never felt lonely, but he had been. The Shark had filled a hole inside his mind, sliding in seamlessly despite their very obvious differences as humans and Shifters. Raven had once told him she would never have bet on her brother’s partner turning out to be a waterbound Shifter.

“You aren’t surprised it’s a man?”

She had snorted. “Really, Charles? You flirted with whatever crossed your path, men and women. You never hit the big one with either gender. I knew you liked both.”

And that had been that.

Erik had fit so wonderfully, so perfectly, and despite their sometimes rather emotional fights, their relationship had only grown stronger. Of course they fought, he thought. Erik was used to being alone, to do whatever he felt like doing, and he was definitely not used to a landbound telepathic Shifter who knew him inside out and upside down. Charles wasn’t a pushover. He was a very strong, deadly individual all of his own. He could kill with a thought. Erik respected that, even though Charles would never attack anyone like that, and in a way the shark was proud of such a mate.

Blinking, looking around, Charles smiled when he saw Erik sitting in a chair, reading.

::Hey:: he said.

Erik put the book aside and walked over to him, perching himself on the edge of the bed. “Hey,” he replied, voice soft, filled with lack of sleep and too much worry.

Lots of worry.

Charles didn’t even have to dig deep. It was there, prominently on his mind, his one and only thought at the moment, and he knew it must have been very bad.

::I Shifted::

“You don’t remember?”

He frowned, trying to. ::Uhm… Oh!::

Memories flooded back and he shivered. Fragments of blurry pain turned into vivid recollections of an agony spreading from his back and encompassing everything.

::They attacked Moira.::

“They shot _you_!”

Charles frowned at the flat delivery.

“Hank said it nearly severed your spine, Charles.” Again the voice was flat, emotionless, the gray eyes reminding Charles more of the shark Erik Shifted into than ever before. “You were lucky. The bullet missed.”

::Yes:: He got up and felt the twinges and pulls from the injury. He would need a lot more time to regenerate completely, even as a rat.

Legs too weak to support his weight buckled and he collapsed back onto the mattress.

::Bugger::

Erik’s mouth twitched into a brief smile. There was a tightness around his eyes, his mouth, his whole presence, that told Charles a lot about what must have happened.

::How long?::

“Three days.”

::Oh.::

It explained his weakness and the general need of his body to go back to sleep again. Erik brushed gentle fingers over his head, not coming close to the back injury.

“Stop moving. Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

::Thirsty:: Charles answered, still puzzled by Erik’s behavior. He missed the temper explosion, the rage and fury pouring through the connection..

He was given some water and it felt wonderful. He looked up at his lover, felt the tension like a faraway notion.

Definitely not normal. Erik was too controlled, too enclosed in his mind, trying not to harm the telepath who he thought he needed to be strong for.

But Erik was close to snapping, his mind unable to deal with that much pressure.

::Let me in:: Charles whispered, begging.

The other Shifter stared at him, denial in his expression.

::Please, Erik::

Because he needed it, too.

And the Shark relented. He opened up, let Charles flow into his mind, and the telepath felt how close Erik was to breaking apart over this. Someone had nearly killed his lover, his mate, and the Shark wanted revenge. Charles was stunned to see some of the other memories, of the mutants at the mansion doing their best to find the perpetrators.

::But…::

“They care for you,” Erik replied, sounding so tired and worn, Charles eased himself more around him. His fingers played with one soft ear and Charles would have purred had he been a cat. “And they know people, who again know people.” He smiled thinly. “I have to give it to Worthington, he really came through with some important stuff. He has connections. And money can buy the rest.”

Charles stared at him, not comprehending what he was hearing. They were actively looking for the attackers?

“Yes,” Erik told him, voice filled with dark satisfaction. “They won’t get away. We might not get the head of this Brotherhood, but we can get them.”

::Erik…::

“Not your call, Charles. They hurt you. They will pay.”

Charles was too tired to argue, his mind already slipping away. He felt Erik’s large hand rest warmly, lightly, against his side, away from the hideous injuries. Charles knew he needed a lot more time to heal, that he wouldn’t be able to Shift for a while, but right now he couldn’t care less.

* * *

It took a week for Charles to be able to Shift without tearing the healing wounds open again. It showed him just how bad it had been. Being a rat for such a long time was new for him. Not even as a child, throughout puberty, when he had discovered his Shifter abilities, had he spent more than a few hours as his alternate form.

Now it had been a week.

It was a change to see the world from such a perspective. He could walk, though he wasn’t as quick and agile as he was used to, and he had to warn the others telepathically when they were about to step on him, or were too close to him. Erik put an end to that by restraining him to his study, their bedroom, and the balcony – which was inaccessible anyway for a rat who wasn’t ready to get his tail frozen off.

Spending the nights in the same bed as a fully grown adult had been awkward for Charles. He was a rat, slept curled up on his pillow, and Erik was next to him; but it was not as usual. That he woke up curled close to his lover each and every morning, Erik’s arm over him without coming close to the injury, stopped surprising him after the third time.

Seeing himself naked and human, Charles turned to look at the scar on his back. He needed two mirrors to see it, but it was there. Big and ugly, running from his hip in a jagged gash across his back.

Missed his spine by a breath, Hank had told him. A little to the left and he would be paralyzed. Or worse.

Erik had been rather monosyllabic in the beginning, but his emotions had been hard to miss for a telepath. There had been almost painful spikes at moments, then the mellow, warm loving embrace of his partner as an apology. Charles understood what Erik felt because he would have felt the same if their roles had been reversed. With him being human again, sharing a bed had been more normal, though Erik had refused to allow anything more than a blow job to release some of the tension.

Moira had come to the mansion after that week and Charles had invited her to stay since her research station and lab had been totaled. She had managed to save a few things, but living on Muir Island in winter with such a badly demolished house was suicide. The past days she had spent with a friend up North.

Erik had spared her barely a glance in the beginning, but after a while he had simply accepted her presence, though reluctantly.

“It wasn’t her fault,” Charles kept insisting.

“I know,” Erik finally relented.

“She feels bad enough.”

He regarded his lover, playing along the slender fingers, caressing smooth skin.

“What she does, Charles… it endangers us.”

“No.”

“She studies the -Cursed!”

Charles sighed and grabbed the hand, raised it and kissed the knuckles. “Moira… Moira lost her family. Both her husband Patric and her son Kevin. Kevin was gifted and suffered from his abilities, unable to control them. It was so bad that he died; he was only sixteen, Erik.”

The Shark stared at his lover. He hadn’t known. “What happened to her husband?”

The pain flooded through his mind and Erik closed his eyes as he understood. Kevin’s last outbreak had killed his own father and Moira had come out of it scarred and without a family. Erik hadn’t seen any scars, but Charles assured him they were there.

“She wants to help others. She wants them to understand their abilities. It’s what we share, Erik. Not every mutant can control what they are. It’s what we have to teach them.”

“If you can.”

Because after seeing what Kevin had been able to do he doubted anyone could have stopped the boy. He had been overloading and his body had simply disintegrated, taking his father with him.

::I would have tried:: Charles told him, voice laced with sorrow.

::You can’t save them all::

::Even one life is worth it. Moira thinks the same. It’s what we have in common and why her research is so important::

Erik understood, but he also saw the danger. All the information in the wrong hands…

Charles looked at him. “I understand your fears and worries. I share them with Moira each time we talk. All information can be used for good or bad. We have to make sure it’s used the right way.”

“She’ll rebuild?”

He nodded.

“And you wanna help?”

Charles chuckled. “I’m not good with a hammer, Erik. Moira has enough friends to help her.”

“Like Azazel.”

The telepath smiled. “Like Azazel.”


	4. Chapter 4

  
Erik didn’t go for any swims in all that time. He was always there. He talked to the others when they came from their own investigations into the attack and a picture started to form. Apparently the Brotherhood hadn’t sanctioned the attack. It had been a splinter group called Marauders.

To Charles’ surprise Logan suddenly dropped by. It was just a day after Charles had finally managed to Shift back to human form. Erik didn’t bristle too much, though he refused to leave Charles alone with the other man in his study.

“Chill, Shark,” the other man said, chewing on a cold cigar stump. “Not gonna maul the guy more than he already is. Glad you’re okay, Professor,” he addressed Charles. “I heard the Marauders got you.”

“They weren’t after me. It was a friend of mine they were targeting.”

“Doesn’t matter who they targeted, they hit you. And knowing those guys, they’re still celebrating the blood spill.”

“How do you know them?” Erik demanded.

“We had our run-ins. They tried to recruit me a long time ago. Didn’t fancy the company. I work better alone.” Logan grinned, showing even, white teeth. “Didn’t sit well with ‘em and we parted ways.”

The Shark smiled coldly. He knew how to interpret those words.

“Also heard that your kids are asking around. I think one of ‘em caught one of the shooters.”

That was news to Charles, but from Erik’s expression it was clear he knew that.

“Small fry. You’ll never get the big ones. Get over it, Shark. Accept what happened. When you run into them again, payback’s a bitch. Until then, keep your pretty face down and take care of the rat.” He nodded at Charles. “You don’t want to have enemies right now. They’ll tear this place to pieces.”

“We’re no threat, Logan,” Charles told him, voice curious about the implication that they would be.

“Everything’s a threat to their mind. They don’t like humans, but they also don’t like their own kin. Would sell their grandmother if it got them a dime or two.” He fixed Erik with a hard look. “Think with your head, Shark. Just for once. Instinct’s fine and good, and it served me well, too. Right now you have more to lose than to win.”

Erik’s hands clenched and unclenched. Charles reached out, touching the sharp, agile mind, feeling it bite back at first before recognizing the calming touch as what it was.

::Erik, please. I can’t lose you::

The startled expression was almost comical. Erik had never given the idea that he might lose his life over his revenge a thought.

“Are you going to stay around?” the telepath asked their guest.

Logan shrugged. “As long as it takes for him to get edgy around me.” He smirked at Erik.

“Like right away?” the Shark asked coldly with a fake pleasant smile.

Logan chuckled. “I’m going to haunt your kitchen a little. Travel makes me hungry. See ya.”

The moment he was gone, Charles wrapped an arm around Erik’s waist and pulled him close, as much for his comfort as to calm the other’s mind, which was in upheaval.

“We’re going to be okay,” he insisted.

“They nearly killed you!”

“I’m okay.”

Erik trembled with anger and rage and pain. “Charles…”

“Don’t. Please, don’t. I don’t want to imagine what could happen to you. I need you, Erik. I need you here, alive and well.” ::There’s so much more to you than you know, not just pain and anger. There’s good in you too, and you can harness all that. Don’t throw all of this away because of what happened to me::

“You are worth everything, Charles,” he insisted, voice shaky. “Everything.”

::Not your death. Never your death! You can’t do that to me::

Erik leaned into him, kissing him gently. ::I won’t. I won’t…::

A hand brushed over the scars on his back that marked where the bullet had nearly done much worse. Charles shivered, pent-up need creeping up on him, flooding through his veins. His lover buried his face against his neck, kissing the warm neck. His teeth scraped over the soft skin and Charles shivered, feeling himself harden.

“Erik…” he murmured.

“I don’t care if Logan is right outside that door. I want you, Charles.”

Not that he would object. Not at all. Charles felt what the other Shifter was projecting and he was feeling the same.

And he could keep others from stumbling in on them.

Erik grinned widely when he caught that thought, thrilled and even more turned on by the idea, by the power of his lover. The images forming in his head – Charles on the desk or on the chair or on the rug – had the telepath lick his lips.

Charles met the heated eyes, felt the desire sweep through him. Erik was already busy removing clothes, Charles’ and his own, and getting his hands on the lean form. Charles lay back, enjoying the needy touches.

Erik was extremely careful, sharp eyes on every move Charles made, listening to every sound of pleasure or pain.

::I’m okay:: the other Shifter sent. ::I’m okay, Erik. I need you. Badly. Please::

The pleas became more uncoordinated, more demanding, and Erik sank into his lover with a soft groan of barely restrained need himself. Their mouths met in hungry kisses, Erik nipping and licking at the reddened lips. His eyes glowed with a fire that told his lover more than anything.

::Let go. Need you. All of you::

The Shark trembled, barely under control, wanting it all. Charles was in his mind, pushing him past that barrier, drawing him into his own primal need and want.

::Charles…:: he breathed.

Erik was afraid. Afraid to hurt, afraid to make it worse again, afraid that this would be bad. He didn’t want to let go, didn’t want to lose control.

Charles knew that even in the throes of passion, claiming his mate, the other Shifter was never out of control. And Charles himself wasn’t defenseless. He would be able to stop this if it became too much.

::You can’t hurt me::

It was like a blessing. Erik’s hips slammed forward, Charles groaning loudly as pleasure exploded through him and pushing back. His hands clawed at the slick leather of the ancient couch. Part of him muttered about needing to clean this; thoroughly. Later.

It became a blur for the waterbound Shifter, a blur of lustwantneedloveCharles. He felt the echoes of pleasure, he felt the other man’s mirrored emotions of love, and he sank his teeth over the claim mark without breaking the skin.

It was quicker than either had wanted it to happen, but their accumulated lust and want had spurred them on, spilling faster than expected. Like hormone-driven young ones.

Charles held him close, the sticky mess between them secondary. He chuckled as he caught Erik’s thought that he hadn’t really lost it like that in the past years. Ever since their first time together, which had been wild and unrestrained, but not matched by the time he had claimed the other man completely. That was still so blurry, he only recalled the basic primal emotions he had felt that moment.

“I love you,” Erik whispered, brushing his lips over one temple. “So very much.”

“I love you,” Charles echoed the words. “And I don’t want to lose you. Not to this.”

This. His need for revenge. Erik gazed into the liquid blue eyes, felt his protective streak overpower his darker emotions. He knew that the chance that he might end up seriously injured or worse was there.

“They will pay,” he said after a while.

One day.

Not now.

Not him actively seeking them out.

Charles ran a caress over his cheek. “They will,” he agreed.

Erik nuzzled the mark, licking over it, then up the sweaty neck. Teeth scraped over sensitive skin and Charles shivered. Erik, while sated, was playful in a way that bordered on erotic. His fingers slid over sweat-slick skin, fondling his slack dick and Charles’s breath caught when his lover began to stroke it lovingly.

::Are you trying to kill me?:: he whimpered.

Because he was feeling a new wave of arousal, much less than before, little twitches all that came out of it.

::Hm, maybe::

And then his partner slid down his prone body, that wicked tongue somewhere else and Charles swallowed hard when a hot mouth swallowed him.

“Erik…” he stuttered, seeing himself disappear in that hot, wet mouth.

::Hm:: It was a hum in his mind and a vibration around his dick.

Fingers circled him and he didn’t fight the sensation, the caress, but his head thumped back hard when those fingers slipped inside him. Part of him was aware of the fact that Erik was looping his own emotions back at him, and the telepath was fascinated by the skill. His very basic human side said screw it and just feel good.

He felt fantastic.

With the edge taken off, letting himself fall into the teasing stimulation was wonderful. Erik’s technique was wicked and when Charles tried to reach for him, two smooth lengths of metal uncurled from the unused fireplace, heavy and black and neatly encircling his wrists and gently disabling his ability to reach.

“Erik, god, please…” he whimpered, not fighting the soft restraint.

He could always call it off. He could order Erik to undo the bindings. One thought, one command, and the other Shifter would have no chance against him.

But he didn’t.

The gleam in the gray eyes told him that Erik knew that. Knew that he trusted the Shark. Knew that he had the power and the means and wouldn’t use them.

Charles felt the thrill loop through him at that. His trust, his assumed helplessness, the threat of so much power within one thought, it all turned Erik on even more. He was hard again and yearning for his mate, wanting it all, wanting the power and the submissiveness, knowing so very well that Charles was anything but submissive or weak.

::I love you so much::

Charles could only moan, his thoughts suddenly jumbled as Erik swallowed him, two fingers sliding to just the right spot.

 _Mine_ , Erik projected. _Yours. Mineyourstogether._

Charles came again, his body tensing up and then flowing into pieces. He felt Erik’s release like a faint echo, and when the Shark crawled up to lay down next to him, he was too limp to do much. Erik brushed a gentle hand over his stomach and Charles smiled lazily.

“My little adorable rat,” Erik murmured, voice full of wonder and emotion.

He laughed softly. No one would think of the words as terms of endearment, but to Erik it was like saying ‘I love you’.

“Sticky,” Charles murmured.

It got him a grunt.

“Shower?”

“You move first.”

He smiled and slid his fingers into the messy, dark hair. Erik’s eyes opened a slit, the gray bright and sharp.

They made it to the shower eventually. Charles indulged Erik as he gave in to his need to touch the scarred skin on his lower back. Charles finally grabbed the lightly exploring fingers and kissed them.

::I’m fine::

Erik gazed at him, long and hard. In the depths of his eyes he saw the lingering fear and horror, the memory of the blood, the smell, the rage.

Charles leaned against him, their foreheads touching. Erik’s large hand pushed against the scars and he felt the tremor as the memories pushed forward. Charles let him work it out on his own, just holding the taller man. Finally Erik pulled back, a faint smile on his face.

The telepath smiled back.

Things were going to be okay. Somehow.

* * *

Matters settled. The school was getting back to normal, though Charles noticed a more protective streak in the mutants who lived at the manor, as well as those who visited from time to time, those who mostly lived in the now revived town of Westchester not far away. What had once been an abandoned fishing village was now turning into a second haven for the Cursed. Old clapboard houses had been renovated enough that people could use them again. Water pipes no longer burst, the roofs were water tight, the heating worked. More renovations were ongoing.

Charles had healed completely, though the scars remained. Erik was prone to running explorative fingers over them when they were in bed together, mapping them with kisses or caresses. It was oddly comforting and erotic in one.

The pain was gone. Shifting happened painlessly. Still, Erik hadn’t talked about taking a dive together, or just a brief swim, and Charles felt his restlessness. He had never met another waterbound before, so Charles had no idea whether this was a shark thing or an Erik thing. Erik loved the ocean, he needed to be close to it and swim. As a landbound Charles had no such instincts. He was always on land.

Erik was denying his Shifter side what it had needed for almost two months now and it showed. He was short-tempered and irritable.

Charles caught the other man outside, near the cliffs, gazing out over the waves with their white crests. The ocean was uneasy today. A sharp wind was blowing in from the sea and it would be a rough night, with a bad day, too. Forecasts hadn’t been very uplifting. Ororo, nicknamed Storm because of her weather control abilities, had told Charles she had a feeling concerning the weather front coming in. It would be another heavy front, heralding the arrival of winter.

Well, nothing new in these parts of the world. Charles remembered his childhood days only too well. He had loved to sit in one of the tower rooms, gazing out at the world outside as the sky was cast in blackness and thunder rolled so deeply over them that it reverberated in his chest. He had enjoyed the howl of the wind and the water cascading like floods over the manor.

“Go,” Charles murmured as he slipped an arm around the slender waist, leaning against the dark-clad form.

Erik pulled him around against his chest, leaned down, and kissed him. “I’ll be fine.”

“It’s calling to you.”

“I’m not some primitive animal,” was the sharp reply, the gray eyes flashing.

“Of course not. But you are a shark. You’re a waterbound Shifter. You need your element. Not just looking at it from here but swimming, diving, hunting. Erik, go. I’ll be completely okay.”

He didn’t make the offer to come along. Swimming in calm seas was one thing. The wild open waters scared him a little and he didn’t want to risk it.

“No one will come here to shoot at me again,” he added, knowing exactly what was going through his partner’s mind. “And I have a whole army of bodyguards.” He grinned. “Even Logan is still around.”

Erik growled. He still hadn’t settled down around the other rather dominant man, despite the fact that Logan wasn’t interested in Charles and Charles had never given Erik a reason to doubt their relationship.

::Go:: he pushed gently.

He went.

Reluctantly.

Charles monitored the other Shifter as he stripped, clothes landing almost carelessly on the cold ground, and then he went into the water, turning into his shark form. He smiled despite the sharp wind by now tugging at his coat and hair as the happiness flooded him. He rode along in Erik’s mind as the shark’s streamlined body torpedoed through the dark, cold waters. Instincts kicked in, telling the Shifter everything about his element, about who was near, who was a danger, where food might be.

Charles finally pulled back, feeling too cold for comfort, and walked back toward the mansion. He was already awaited. Raven had been watching and gave him a quizzical look.

“He okay?”

“Now he is.”

“Good. He was scaring the crap out of the younger ones. He can be one mean son-of-a-bitch.”

“Raven,” he chastised, though he knew it was true.

“Hey, it’s true.”

Charles hung up his coat, glad to be in the warm manor again. Raven slipped an arm through his, gently tugging him toward the reading room. Charles smiled when he discovered a batch of cookies – which Raven definitely hadn’t made since she claimed she wasn’t the baking, or cooking, kind – and hot cocoa.

“Sugar rush?” he asked mildly.

It was like back when they had been children. Raven would wheedle cookies and hot cocoa out of the cook and they would sit in the reading room, munch on the sugary treats, and Charles would read out to his sister.

“Aiming for one.” She picked up a mug, filled it, and handed the treat to Charles. “Read to me?”

He laughed as he settled on the couch, Raven immediately draping herself that her head was resting against one shoulder, long legs on the couch.

“I always put you to sleep.”

“So does Hank when he starts talking math or physics or chemistry. So you’re not that unique.”

“Not a special power then,” Charles teased.

“Nope. You sciencey types are all the same.”

“Thank you, sister.”

“You’re welcome, brother.”

Charles drank from his cocoa and grabbed a cookie. Raven shoved a random book into his face, lifting it over her head for him to take it.

“That’s my thesis.”

“Your thesis always sends me right off.”

Charles grinned and obediently started to read. True to her words Raven fell asleep halfway into the first chapter.

Erik returned after a night in the ocean, smelling of salt and the wild and the cold. He was drenched from the rain and had foregone the sweater, only pulling on his pants for decency. Not that anyone at the manor would have batted an eye. Ororo, who was up late, or early, depending interpretation, gave the lean, athletic form an appreciative eye.

Erik cocked an eyebrow at her open look.

“Lucky,” she only commented with a sly smile, then was on her way.

Erik stared after her, a faint blush coloring his skin. Ororo was a very settled personality, strong and sure in herself and her abilities, and whenever she looked at him this way, like she wouldn’t mind gazing at him all day, it flustered him a little.

He had been a loner. People had avoided him. No one had openly stared at him in appreciation until lately. Well, unless you counted Charles, who had been appreciative of him right from the start, though far from a clearly sexual way, which had luckily changed later.

Ignoring it all, Erik headed for the kitchen.

Charles had left Raven on the couch, sleeping, returning to his bedroom. Normally Raven could sleep anywhere and anytime. He was in the kitchen, up early, before the crack of dawn and watching the sun struggle through the storm clouds. The day would be bleary and gray.

Erik walked into the kitchen and Charles smiled at him. The sight of his half-naked lover gave him a little thrill, eyes sliding over the hard planes of his chest, nicely muscular and still so lithe, down to the narrow waist. He had caught little glimpses of his lover’s easing tension, letting the shark side swim free, letting all glide off him. He had simply felt. He had simply been. Now the Shark’s presence was easy, balanced, grounded.

It was such a difference to before. When he had first met Erik the other Shifter had been a tightly coiled presence, angry and off balance, trying to push others away but also yearning for human contact. It had been a yearning Erik hadn’t understood. It hadn’t registered with him. He had pushed at Charles and had been surprised that he hadn’t pushed back; at least not in any way he was used to. Charles had let the Shark get used to him, had been persistent and just a little bit annoying sometimes. He hadn’t let the other Shifter get to him.

And Erik had grown used to him.

More than that.

They had connected; slowly. Then with more force. Finally in an act of pleasure and claiming, Charles logging onto the other mind as Erik sheathed himself deep within the telepath, and it had been more than sex at the time. It had been a completion for them both.

There was no going back now and why would he want to? Erik meant everything to him. Erik was everything; he had filled a hole.

Charles held out a mug of strong, black coffee. Erik took it with a smile, then leaned closer to brush a good morning kiss over his lips. His mind wove along the line that anchored them both within the other, clearly picking up on Charles’ musings.

If Erik had known what Charles was at the time, he might have simply kicked him out. Or eaten him.

Charles sent amusement at the thoughts. As if! Erik couldn’t harm him any more than Charles could ever hurt his lover.

Wasn’t that back then, Erik reminded him, gray eyes warm. They had been two strangers.  
But still they had found a common ground.

Yes, they had. Because Erik wouldn’t have tolerated anyone within his home for so long if there hadn’t been something between them. He wouldn’t have given Charles so much insight, so many intimate details about his Shifter side.

“You’re dripping,” Charles murmured, eyes bright and filled with laughter.

“It’s raining.”

“I noticed.”

Another kiss, turning into small kiss-lick-nips. Erik pushed against him, wet patches spreading over Charles. The Shark finally pulled back and smiled down at the smaller man.

“Better?” Charles asked softly, knowing the answer.

“Perfection.”

The look was intense, aimed at Charles, and the other Shifter realized where the comment had been aimed at. He brushed ineffectively against the damp spots on his clothes.

::You are perfect:: Erik murmured over the bond, cool fingers gliding over warm, soft skin. ::All of you::

Ignoring the possibility of getting even more wet, Charles looped an arm around his semi-naked lover and pulled him close again. The kiss was not meant to arouse, relaying love and acceptance and everything they were, down to their very souls. Erik shivered as he caught the strength of what was Charles, all that made the telepath so much more than what he seemed to be at first glance.

“Come with me next time,” he murmured.

Swimming, diving, to the beach, to the ocean, close. An invitation to share everything with Erik, not just in his mind but also to see the endless waters, the dark depth of his element.

Charles smiled. “Next time.”

Erik’s happiness was almost childlike and nothing the powerful Shifter would ever confess to. He took the mug back and drank from it, radiating strength and warmth and love.

Outside it rained more.

Sounds of people waking up had Charles look at the ceiling, a smile crossing his lips. Erik was still dripping water onto the kitchen floor.

“You should go dry yourself.”

“I won’t catch anything.”

Of course not. Water was his element and Erik was a very resilient Shifter.

“You’re dripping all over the floor.”

He looked at the puddle. “Looks like it.”

Charles touched one temple with two fingers. ::There’s a mop and bucket next to the door.:: He hadn’t pushed the thought at Erik, just made a little show of it.

Erik grinned back, aware that no telepathic command had been uttered – and wouldn’t be. “Thank you for telling me.” And he walked out of the kitchen, still dripping.

Charles only shook his head.

*

The ‘next time’ was a week later. The ocean was icy cold and deadly to whoever was foolish enough to go in without protection. Charles was clad in his diver’s suit, the very thickly insulated one. He didn’t feel any cold as he let Erik dive, holding on to the special harness that allowed the rat to ride on his shark’s back. He didn’t feel any fear. He trusted Erik not to toss him or dive somewhere dangerous.

The waters were easy today. Slight waves, but no harbingers of a storm to come. That could change, but Ororo had told him that she felt no adverse weather for today.

Erik’s mind was a sharp, alert place to be; keeping track of their surroundings, knowing where the danger was. Charles let himself drift with it, amazed by the mixture of logic and instinct as always. He knew his own wouldn’t be much different, only that he wasn’t a predator. He was a rat and as such far from a hunter-killer.

They surfaced, much to Charles’ surprise, near Muir Island. Out here the waves were stronger and he was glad to have the harness.

::Why come here?:: he probed.

Erik didn’t answer, just lazily approached the rough beach as closely as he dared. Charles caught the invitation.

::No:: he answered. ::And Moira isn’t back yet. She and Azazel went to New York. I think Warren wants to fund her and give her the protection she needs::

The shark drew another circle.

::Thank you:: Charles sent, aware that if he had truly wanted to visit Moira, Erik would have suffered through it. ::I also didn’t bring any clothes:: he added, adding a poke and grin.

Erik chuckled in his mind. ::I wouldn’t mind::

::It’s freezing cold!::

::For you maybe::

His lover turned and went back out into the deeper water, diving after a quick warning to Charles, taking them into the much calmer depths.

::Air?:: Erik asked.

Charles checked the read-out. ::Enough for four more hours::

Enough for the journey back. Slow and filled with ‘sight-seeing’ as Charles called it.

They surfaced in the evening, the waves rougher than Charles would have liked them to be, and it was really cold. He hurriedly slipped into his clothes, scowling at Erik’s careless display. His lover was only wearing pants and didn’t look even a little bit cold.

He curled up to his Shark in front of the fire place not much later, hands wrapped around his tea, enjoying the warmth. It would probably be his last swim this winter. A small rat didn’t do well in rough waters and Charles the human wasn’t suicidal enough to believe he would fare any better.

Erik carded his long fingers into his damp hair, turning Charles’ head to kiss him.

::You can always come with me:: he murmured, deftly removing the tea cup and placing it onto the couch table. ::You can ride with me::

Charles let himself be rolled and looked up into the warm gray eyes, filled with love and want. He brushed the backs of his fingers over Erik’s temple.

::I’d love that::

Their lips met, soft, gentle, loving. Erik wouldn’t forget what had happened and if he ever got the chance, he would kill the ones responsible. For now the most important part in his life was Charles Xavier.

end for this fic!


End file.
